Page 21 of Out of Office Nights (Royals of Cartana #2)

He left soon after bringing her coffee and freshly made croissants, delivered by his staff. She told herself she welcomed the reprieve.

She gathered the ashes from the now dead fire and disposed of them. Then she showered, napped for three hours and cleaned her little house.

The first few buzzes of her phone she ignored, revelling in this rejuvenating peace. But the buzzing continued, insistent, until she snatched it up to turn it off only to pause.

At first, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. The image on the screen preview was grainy at best, taken at night with the figures unfocused. A blessing, she realised when it dawned on her what she was looking at.

An image of her and Teo. On the beach last night.

The Playboy Prince’s New Plaything?

Ice froze her veins, her heart dipping to her toes. But just as she was wading through worst-case scenarios, another thunderbolt struck.

Playboy Prince Axes Creative Director

No. No, no, no!

It took three tries to click on the article, then anguished seconds to realise the article wasn’t about her.

Teo had fired Cristobal at some point in the last twenty-four hours, without telling her. Before or after he’d kissed her? Before or after he’d dared her to let him touch her in ways that still took her breath away?

Was she next on the chopping block? Her insides dipped and dived as she read the article one more time. If the picture on the beach was accurately identified as her, old gossip would be given new life.

Questions were straining to bursting point when Teo knocked on her door just after sundown. She yanked the door open, barely able to contain herself. ‘What the hell did you do?’

‘Specificity is a skill I value greatly, carina .’

‘You fired Cristobal?’

His eyes narrowed as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. ‘I didn’t realise you were so attached to him.’

‘Stop it. You know what I’m talking about!’

‘I don’t. Are you under the misapprehension that I should’ve consulted you first?’

His chilled mockery stung her hard. But she kept her chin up and her hands on her hips as she faced him in her living room. The place where he’d made her feel more special than she’d felt in an aeon. Had it all been an illusion?

‘Consulted me? No. As you’ve reminded me infinite times, this is your show. But would it have killed you to tell me so I didn’t read about it on the news?’

‘It wasn’t meant to be announced yet,’ he stated laconically. ‘Someone obviously leaked it.’

She exhaled, feverishly gathering her composure as his gaze zeroed in sharper.

‘That’s not all that’s bothering you.’

She’d given up being astounded at how well he read her. ‘There’s a picture…’

He waited, a tower of infinite control.

Her heart still banging against her ribs, she pulled it up and showed it to him. He examined it for several beats, then handed her phone back.

‘Forget about that. They’ll lose interest in it soon enough.’

‘And if they don’t?’

His eyes narrowed, his tension growing. ‘It bothers you that much?’

‘That everyone will assume I’m sleeping with my boss to get ahead? Within the same time frame that you fired Cristobal? Of course it does!’

She was too het up to cringe at her screechy voice. She stopped and took a breath. ‘Surely you can see how the timing of this looks?’

Conceit built in the slow arch of his brow and the pitiless look he flung her way. ‘I don’t live my life according to the timings of tabloids spewing nonsense.’

‘Well, lucky you. The rest of us don’t have the same freedom to be so laissez-faire about things!’

He prowled closer until he was at arm’s length.

‘Cristobal hasn’t produced a single sketch since I last saw him.

He’s been on a friend’s boat on the Riviera, indulging in drink and drugs.

It’s clear he didn’t intend to meet any deadlines or even try to complete this assignment, so I wished him well on his next venture.

The official press release announcing my new permanent creative director will be in a couple of weeks. Is that a problem?’ he queried silkily.

‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’ Grimacing at that, she whirled away, distancing herself before she did something stupid. Like demanding to know what all that meant. For her.

Stepping outside into the small courtyard, she walked along the wall to the almost hidden stone stairway that led to her second favourite place in her grandmother’s house then climbed up.

The rooftop terrace spanned the entire square footage of the house, with loungers, a clay wood-burner, a mosaic-inlaid table with matching chairs and a raffia-woven awning to alleviate the worst of the day’s heat.

She tried to blank her mind, lose herself in the smells of mint tea, spice-tinged air, wood fires and the sea.

The tall walls on either side ensured the utmost privacy, and she basked in it now, not surprised at all when, lifting her head to the soft ocean breeze, she felt his overwhelming presence behind her. ‘I’m guessing we’re not done with the deep excavation?’

He didn’t respond immediately. He came close. Closer. Braced his hands on either side of her on the stone wall. Sabeen barely managed to resist the wild urge to lean back against his hard front. Savour his heat and let it fill all her cold places.

For a full minute, they remained caught in their charged silence, their eyes fixed on the horizon.

‘What was Nathan Gray to you?’ he asked with a hard edge, chopping her off at the knees with this question out of left field.

Spikes dug into her skin. Shoving one arm away, she freed herself from his force field, going over to the small iron table and cushioned chair set where she’d spent many hours and meals with her grandmother.

It didn’t hold the nostalgic, poignant gravity of the armchair downstairs, but she still clung to it as she boldly met Teo’s narrowed eyes.

‘None of your business,’ she replied sharply, self-protection vital.

His expression returned to mockery, deepening with each passing second. ‘I thought we were delving deep?’ he challenged.

Sabeen swallowed, wondering why she wasn’t ordering him to leave. ‘I’ll answer anything else besides that.’ Heavens, could she sound any more desperate? Bare her soul any wider?

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, his gaze morphed from sardonic to chilled and censorious while it probed deeper than she would ever be comfortable with. ‘You’re either hoping to stoke my curiosity or you’re disappointingly not as brave as I thought you were.’

She needed a few breaths to get through the sting of that one. ‘I won’t be goaded into satisfying your curiosity, Teodor.’

He stiffened. Then his mouth twitched. ‘Very few people call me that. And never in that prim little voice that makes me want to see you in a starched uniform and sky-high heels with a whip in your hand.’

She gasped then cursed every single nerve-ending that melted into carnal subjugation at the image he evoked.

He laughed, low, husky and so sexy she clenched her thighs to prevent the urgent throbbing that started between them. Dear God, he was shameless. And so rampantly virile that she couldn’t think straight.

‘Does that turn you on?’ he drawled as she was scrambling to regain her fracturing composure.

‘No. It does not. So if that’s what you’re into—?’

‘Oh, no, no, no, tesoro ,’ he interrupted, his tone amused. ‘You’ve got me on guard now. You won’t be using that sexy voice to taunt me into divulging even more snippets while you keep your torrid little secrets tucked close to your chest.’

‘I don’t have any torrid secrets,’ she replied far too hotly.

‘No?’

Hard eyes dug into her, evicting emotions she needed to hide.

She dragged her gaze away, staring at the same spot he’d watched minutes ago.

The glittering sea she’d swum in as a child, watched over by the strong, strict but loving grandmother who’d done everything in her power to stop her daughter falling into the same pitfalls she’d stumbled into.

And having failed at that, her even greater efforts to prevent the same from happening to her granddaughter.

Sabeen’s heart squeezed at the remembered heartache of the toughest confession of her life: telling her grandmother that she’d tangled with a playboy and got her emotions crushed by Nathan Gray.

Of the tears and disappointment, then the entreating that this cursed legacy of falling for undeserving men ended with Sabeen.

Her own vow to get her life back on track after Jida was gone.

No way was she about to disclose any of that to Teodor Domene.

She swallowed past the aching lump in her throat. Focused on changing the direction of these probing questions. Then stunned herself with her next words.

‘My grandmother gave me my love of fashion.’

She felt his ferocious focus then, a laser beam drilling into her. She kept her gaze forward, so she wouldn’t be completely annihilated by this perilous path she couldn’t seem to abandon.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his nod. ‘I’ve seen some of her old sketches among yours.’

She started. She hadn’t gone out of her way to hide them, thinking he wouldn’t care. That he was too self-absorbed to pay attention to anything that didn’t directly involve his two passions of sex and fashion.

‘I thought they were yours until I saw the dates on some of them. She was clearly talented.’

Completely floored, she forgot her vow to avoid looking at him and met his sizzling gaze. There was no trace of mockery or amusement.

‘She was also very beautiful. She came from a line of beautiful women.’ She paused, remembering the brief but significant moments when her jida had revisited her own painful past. The raw anguish of her plea for history not to be repeated.

‘Unfortunately, she also came from a line of women who’d been betrayed by men. ’

He stiffened, his lips flattening in a displeased line. But he said nothing, his sheer force of will prompting her to continue.

‘My grandfather was like you. A shameless Casanova.’